


Rivers and Roads

by myqinaide



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Asian Character(s), Best Friends, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myqinaide/pseuds/myqinaide
Summary: When Phoebe Qiu's best friend Cedric Diggory puts his name into the Goblet of Fire, she begrudgingly puts hers in as an act of defiance-- if he's willing to risk his life, she might as well spite him. Life goes on, late-night broom races and pumpkin juice fueled study sessions. The duo's sixth year at Hogwarts looks to be an entertaining one.No one expected Phoebe's name to be pulled.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter One

I watched the green fields pass by the windows of our compartment as the Hogwarts Express made its way through the English countryside. I glanced across from where I sat, where Cedric had managed to compress his lanky frame to fit lengthwise across the seat, knees pressed against his chest, smiling when the arm that had been bent against his head flopped down due to a bump in the tracks. We were entering our sixth year at Hogwarts, and my heart ached just a bit to think that we only had two years left. It was hard to believe that only six years before, I learned that I was a witch-- plucked out of my mundane little life in Brixton and dropped into a magnificent Scottish castle. Ced had been there for me since my first experience in the wizarding world, when I awkwardly strode along Platform 9 and Three-Quarters, desperately hoping for someone to talk to me. Ever since then, we were practically inseparable at school, despite the fact that we were sorted into different houses-- I, Gryffindor, and he, Hufflepuff.

At precisely that moment, another jolt of the train knocked Cedric’s head into the compartment wall, waking him up. He pushed himself up, groaning as he stretched out his abnormally long legs. “How long was I out?” he asked, bleary-eyed.

I glanced at my watch. “An hour and a half.”

“Damn. How long ‘till we get to school?”

“An hour or so,” I shrugged. The sky was already beginning to darken outside, turning that pretty shade of pink that is standard of late summer days. Cedric yawned, lacing his hands together on his stomach.

“I hope there’s pumpkin pie tonight,” he crooned. “Oh, how I’ve missed it this summer.”

“There’s always pumpkin pie, Ced,” I responded, pressing my head against the glass window.

“You know, sometimes I wonder how you didn’t get sorted into Ravenclaw, being such a know-it-all,” he teased.

I laughed. I couldn’t possibly be in Ravenclaw when I was known for falling asleep during late-night Astronomy lessons, which technically ended up with me having to copy notes from either Fred or George-- who tended to draw more doodles of certain Potions teachers being eaten by werewolves than actually writing down anything important.

“Did you see all the little first years? They’re so adorable.”

“Yeah, I thought you were one of them before you turned around on the platform, Phoebe.”

I scowled in an attempt to hide my smile. Ced has always been the only one able to make fun of my disappointingly short stature without feeling my wrath. “Hey, being smaller makes me faster on a broom-- and Gryffindor will most definitely be getting a ton of wins against Hufflepuff this year,” I boasted.

“We’ll see about that,” Ced said in a sing-songy voice, rolling his eyes.

* * *

The Hogwarts Express finally rolled to a stop about an hour later, just as I predicted. Across the Great Lake, the shimmering lights of the castle twinkled in the darkness. Heavy sheets of rain pattered against the waters of the lake, sending cascading ripples across its surface. I held my robes over my head in an attempt to shelter myself from the torrent. Cedric and I shuffled into one of many horseless carriages, and I breathed a sigh of relief at how warm it was inside. A few moments later, Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins came splashing in, dragging in muddy footprints to the carriage’s wooden floors.

“Phoebe!” they exclaimed in unison, each clapping me on the shoulder. The twins scowled a bit at Ced-- they still weren’t over our team’s loss against Hufflepuff the year prior. As the carriages began their procession to the castle, the awkward tension dissolved into the mischievous trio revealing all the new pranks they had come up with on the train ride. Before we knew it, the carriages had come to a halt and everyone began filing out and into the castle, pouring into the Great Hall and taking a seat at our respective tables. I sat with what seemed like the entire Weasley family, Harry, and Hermione. Harry, I knew through the Quidditch team, and he was like a younger brother to me-- we both came from upbringings where we knew absolutely nothing about magic. Hermione was one of the smartest people I knew, and if I’m being honest, often helped me complete History of Magic essays the day before they were due. Finally, the first years began shuffling into the room, their eyes wandering to and fro, from the enchanted ceiling to the tables filled with students. Fred and George banged on the tables and cheered loudly each time someone was sorted into Gryffindor, and by the end of the sorting, the whole school looked entirely tired of their antics and the first years sat as far away from them as possible. Once everyone was seated, people began shoveling food onto their plates, from steaming platters of mashed potatoes to golden goblets of pumpkin juice. When even the great bowls of desserts were stripped bare, Dumbledore cleared his throat and stood from his chair, addressing the entire school. He recited a great list of Mr. Filch’s forbidden objects, which seemed far longer than last year and seemed to include far more of the Weasley twins favorites. After what seemed to be minutes of monotonous droning, Dumbledore clasped his hands together authoritatively.

“It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.”  
My jaw dropped, and my hand subconsciously tightened into a fist around my robes. No Quidditch?! A laughable thought sprung into my head-- I was mighty glad that Wood had already graduated, or he would probably have tried to jump off the astronomy tower. Besides me, Fred and George mouthed soundless profanities, too in shock to make them heard. Dumbledore continued amongst the gasps and murmurs of students.

“This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy-- but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts--”

A loud bang interrupted our headmaster mid-sentence, and all heads turned towards the doors of the Great Hall, the source of the noise. A flash of lightning struck at precisely that moment, illuminating the weathered face of a middle-aged man. He had a deep gash running down his face, a chunk of his nose was missing, and he had the most abnormal eyes-- one was large and round, a vivid blue, and the other was moving nonstop, left, right, up, down, seemingly on its own accord. The stranger walked through the Hall to Dumbledore, shaking his hand and quietly conversing with him. The man then sat down at an empty seat at the staff table, directly to the right of Dumbledore himself. The entire room was quiet, as students stared gapingly at the newest addition to the Hogwarts faculty.

“May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” Dumbledore broke the silence brightly. “Professor Moody.”  
Hogwarts was known to not have the best of luck with Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. In the past three years alone, one was used as a vessel by You-Know-Who, another was obliviated, and the most recent was exposed as a werewolf. It was a shame-- Professor Lupin was actually the best teacher I’ve ever had. I wasn’t surprised at the new teacher. Dumbledore tended to hire some strange people.

“As I was saying,” the headmaster continued, beaming at the sea of students before him. “We are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

“You’re JOKING!” Fred’s voice rang through the Hall.

I frowned. At moments like these, I felt a bit out of the loop. I looked over to Cedric at the Hufflepuff table, but his face seemed more serious than ever and he kept his eyes intently on Dumbledore.  
“For those who don’t know, the Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities-- until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.”

“Death toll?” Hermione and I hissed at the same time. Our eyes were frenzied, but looking up and down the table, I didn’t see anyone with the same response as us. In fact, most of our classmates looked excited.

“There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournaments,” Dumbledore continued, “none of which have been very successful. However, our own department of International Magic Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

“The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their shortlisted contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money.”

At this, more and more ears perked up as whispers were exchanged between friends of how much one could buy with a thousand Galleons. “However,” Dumbledore went on. “Only students who are of age-- that is to say, seventeen years or older-- will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion.” His pale eyes appeared to twinkle, glanzing over at the Weasley twins’ glowering faces.

“The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!”

I muttered a quick “See you soon” to my fellow Gryffindors and squirmed through the hordes of students making their ways to the door to reach Cedric. Once I got close enough, he reached out a hand to pull me through the jostling crowd of people. I grabbed onto the sleeves of his robe, and raised my voice to make myself heard through all the commotion. “What was all that about death tolls?” I demanded. “You know, the willingness to die is something I will never understand about the wizarding world.”

“I don’t think that many people died,” Cedric replied. “Some were just...severely injured.”

I looked up at him with reprimanding eyes, but the look on his face quickly stopped my words in my throat. Ced looked more distracted than I’d ever seen him, like he was thinking of something far in the depths of his brain. Something in his expression told me not to push it, and I remained silent as we reached the corridor where we would have to make our ways to our separate common rooms. I waved good night, and Cedric seemed to snap out of his trance and give me his trademark smile, the one that never failed to make me smile in return. I told myself that he was probably tired from the long trip, upset about the cancelled Quidditch season. By the time my head reached the pillow waiting for me in the girls’ tower, Cedric’s aloofness was but a blip in my mind.


	2. Chapter Two

September 2, 1994

The storm had blown out by the next morning, but the view from the window was still dreary and gray. I shook Angelina awake-- she was always the last to get up. I got ready for the day, then trudged bleary-eyed to the Great Hall for breakfast. A good amount of students were there already, excitedly chattering about their schedules for the first day of term. I spotted Ced at the Hufflepuff table, elbowing him a bit as I sat down beside him. It was customary for students to sit at the table for their respective house, but not mandatory. He nodded at me in acknowledgment, a piece of French toast shoved into his mouth. I reached over to pour a bit of milk into my goblet and slid a perfectly fluffy pancake onto my plate. As I began eating, Cedric finished the last of his toast. He turned towards me, swallowing hard and clearing his throat. I raised an eyebrow to let him know I was listening.

“So,” he said officially. “You may be wondering why I was acting weird last night.”

I almost choked on my pancake. It was always funny whenever Cedric would go into one of his fancy spiels. “Go on,” I urged. “After a long night of thinking, I’ve finally come to a decision.” Hm. He did seem to have darker under eyes than usual, I suppose. He cleared his throat again. “I’m going to be putting my name in. For the Triwizard Tournament.”

This time, I actually did choke. After a minute-long coughing fit, which consisted of me bending away from the table while Cedric vigorously whacked at my back, I finally regained composure. “You’re doing what?” I said this as less of a question and more as a threat. “You better hope you did not just say what I think you did.”

Ced knitted his eyebrows together. “Look, I’m of age. I’m good enough to compete. I can and I will.” I began to notice how fast my heart had been beating the last few minutes. I broke eye contact and stared at my hands in my lap for a few moments. “I know you’re good enough, Ced. But you could die!” I whispered the last word like a bad omen.

“Okay, look, barely anyone actually dies. Don’t you have enough faith in me to believe that I won’t?”

“Oh, don’t you dare push this on me Cedric Diggory. I have no doubt in my mind that you could win, but are you seriously willing to put yourself in danger for, what, fame?”

“It’s more than fame! It’s honor, it’s courage.”

I bit my cheek. When he phrased it like that, it was hard to antagonize. At that moment, he seemed a lot more like a Gryffindor than I. But, if something were to happen to him...what would be of his family? What would be of me? Maybe this was a sign that I should treat him more affectionately rather than teasing him all the time. Just then, an idea blossomed in my head.

“Cedric...you know, I’m of age too,” I drew out slowly. “I’m quite a good witch.” Before he could rebut, I added, “History of Magic doesn’t count. They’re not going to challenge us with the werewolf code of conduct. So. What I was saying before you so rudely interrupted. If you’re risking your life and the happiness of your friends and family, I will too.”

Cedric opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “It’d be hypocritical of me to advise against that, wouldn’t it be?” I nodded firmly, a triumphant grin on my face. I got up, ruffling his hair. “See you in Herbology,” I called as I walked away, breaking into a jog to catch up to Angelina and the twins.

* * *

“It’s not fair,” George grumbled. “We barely missed the mark.”

“We look seventeen right? I think we’re quite mature,” George frowned. We were working on turning vinegar to wine in Charms, and the twins grumbled after learning both Angelina and I would be putting ourselves up for the tournament. “Oh, don’t get your panties in a twist,” I quipped. It’s not like our odds are very high either.”

Angelina added, “And besides, it’s not like you two would have any chance of winning.” She elbowed me, giggling.

“Angelina! We are very skilled wizards,” Fred grumbled.

“Tell that to the orange juice in your glass.” Fred’s vinegar was struggling quite a bit to respond to his magic-- the liquid had been oscillating between orange juice and cough syrup for the past five minutes. The twins began grumbling and turned completely away from us, murmuring something about lack of respect.

Angelina succeeded in turning her vinegar into wine and rested her head on her hand before glancing at me. “So, Cedric Diggory is trying as well, huh?”

I sighed. “Yeah. I tried to talk him out of it, but he’s already too dedicated to it.”

“You know, if we don’t get picked I hope it’s him. He’s quite handsome, don’t you think?” Angelina asked, waggling her eyebrows.

“Angie!” I protested awkwardly. “Don’t be weird,” I laughed.

* * *

We made our way across the grounds to the greenhouse after Charms ended. We had double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs today. I liked Herbology-- it was quite relaxing and it was nice to get fresh air after being in the castle so long. “Pheebs!” I waved at Angelina and the twins to go on without me, and stopped and stood for Cedric to catch up, watching as his long legs strode across the green. He threw his arm around my shoulder, stretching his other out the other side. “Probably shouldn’t have stayed up all night, huh?” He yawned.

“That’s on you,” I tutted, shoving him playfully. “How many people do you know are putting their names up?”

Cedric began counting on his fingers, and my eyes widened a bit when he didn’t stop at ten. “Like, twenty-three, give or take?” We reached the greenhouse door and he held it open for me, then strode over to the glove bin in order to protect ourselves from certain death while working with the Venomous Tentacula.

I frowned. “You know, I will never understand--”

“...why wizards are so willing to die,” Cedric finished my sentence for me. I rolled my eyes, giving him my best _I hate you but not really_ face. “Anyway, who do you think’s that impartial judge Dumbledore was talking about? I was considering the idea that it might be him, but Dumbledore’s not exactly known for being...impartial.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah, yeah, he’s...a bit biased.”

“Just a bit.”

Throughout the class, we tried our best to keep the Venomous Tentaculas still enough to observe, which was quite a struggle when our particular plant kept attempting to strangle us. Halfway through the lesson, a loud “SHIT!” emanated from Fred as his plant made a leap for his face. By the time it was lunch, every student that streamed out of the greenhouse looked like they had been either run over or mauled by a bear.

“Oy, Cedric!” George called from behind us, sprinting to clap him on the back. “I heard you’re putting your name up for the tournament,” the flaming-haired boy said, waggling his eyebrows. Fred popped up beside me, his face plastered with equal interest.   
Cedric cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, I am actually.”

“Well, _we_ will be rooting for you,” Fred announced matter-of-factly. “Phoebe was being quite insulting towards our magical ability,” he humphed.

“Merlin, Fred you are so dramatic,” I laughed. We approached the Great Hall, where most of the school was already. The four of us squished into an empty space at the Gryffindor table, where the twins instantaneously began shoveling chicken legs onto their plates. I turned to Cedric, who was carefully drizzling gravy on his turkey.

“You know, I was thinking,” I said, a chicken leg in hand. “Maybe the impartial judge is McGonagall, or Flitwick. They’ve been quite non-biased.”

“Maybe,” Cedric replied, wiping a bit of gravy from his chin. “But in our six years at Hogwarts, I think they tend to go for more...extravagant ways of dealing with things.”

That’s true, I thought to myself. There was never a year at Hogwarts where everything was perfectly normal, smooth sailing. In fact, all the antics at school seemed ten times amplified at the arrival of Harry four years ago. I looked down the table, where he was sitting, as per usual, with Ron and Hermione. I smiled-- there was still an air of innocence amongst them, despite how much they had been through. If the age limit wasn’t in place, the three of them would all be great contenders for the tournament.

“Sucks that they canceled Quidditch, though. I can hardly imagine what Wood would say…” The ex-Gryffindor captain was absolutely in love with the sport. I thought back to the year before, when he attempted to drown himself in the showers when we lost to Hufflepuff. It took Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and I to drag him out.

“I mean, I’m glad in some ways,” Cedric let out while stretching his arms up. “I’ve gotten rusty this summer.”

“Ced, you’re seeker!”

"Well yeah, but, I mean, I didn’t have the most time to study, I was busy…” Cedric blushed, trailing off.

“Riiiiiiight,” I replied. “Studying. Anyway, you promised to tell me all about the World Cup in person in your last letter,” I reminded him, popping a grape into my mouth.

“Do you actually want to hear about the cup or just the Death Eaters?” he sighed.

“The latter,” I sheepishly admitted. I had a Daily Prophet subscription, and I nearly fell down the stairs when I read of the Death Eaters’ attack on the night of the World Cup. I must’ve sent Ced five letters in the span of a day, all demanding to know if he was okay.

He dropped his voice to a low whisper, and we leaned our heads closer together so as to hear each other over the noise in the Hall. “Right after the game ended, Dad and I were walking back to our tent. It was quite late-- maybe eleven at night? I didn’t really notice anything until...until people started screaming. Dad started pushing me towards the forest, yelling at me to run and hide. I managed to turn around as we ran, and Phoebe, it was horrifying. There was a whole horde of them, all wearing masks. And, and…” Cedric trailed off, looking pained.

“Stop, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,” I whispered, my eyebrows knitted together.

“They had a Muggle family up in the air, Pheebs. There were little kids. And the sky, the sky was so a horrid green with the Dark Mark.” Ced said this in such a low voice I could barely make it out.

I bit the side of my cheek. I was really regretting pushing him to reveal so much. Cedric was brave, I knew that. But he had a tendency of acting strong, being whatever other people needed to be-- he never let himself feel, he never let himself struggle. “It’s okay,” I whispered, taking his hand in mine. “The Ministry will find them. And, the most powerful are locked up anyway, right?” Despite my attempts at comforting him, I couldn’t help but feel like I was lying to him. It was no secret that You-Know-Who was gaining more power, and that his supporters were as loyal as ever. I wasn’t sure what would happen in the coming years, the coming months even. Cedric seemed to my reassured by my words, though. He squeezed my hand in his and looked up at me with a feeble smile. “Thank you,” he mouthed. I smiled back, trying to hide the thoughts behind my eyes.

* * *

I had a free schedule for the rest of the day, while Cedric had Potions. I headed up to the common room to work on some Charms homework that Flitwick had already assigned.

“Hey Ang,” I greeted. Angelina was sitting in a cozy armchair by the fireplace, papers and books strewn around her.

“Flitwick is absolutely crazy for giving us all this work on the first day, Pheebs,” Angelina groaned. “I should never have signed up for N.E.W.T.s.” I sat in an armchair beside her, pulling up my own books and parchment. I looked at her paper, where all she had written was her name, and chuckled.

“Well, let’s get to work, shall we?” I teased.

We spent most of the afternoon completing the assignment by the comfort of the fire. Flitwick had only given us ten problems, but each one seemed to have infinite parts. Added on to that was the twins annoying pestering, as well as Fred snatching our papers to copy what we’ve written.

“Change the wording!” I would hiss each time.

Dinner finally came around, and the latter halves of our assignments consisted of rushed chicken scratch that only made half sense. “You guys go ahead,” I called to Angelina and the twins. They nodded, and I leaned against a wall as I waited for Cedric to come up from the dungeons. After what seemed like forever, I finally saw his silhouette down the hall.

“Took you long enough!” I yelled. “I was literally the only person in this corridor for five minutes!”

“Sorry, someone’s potion exploded and Snape made us stay in,” he chuckled. “But I think I have an idea you’re gonna like,” Cedric said in a sing-song voice.

“And what may that be?”

“Midnight race?”

My eyes lit up. “FINALLY! We haven’t had one since what, the end of fourth year?”

“Well, we were busy with O.W.L.s last year, but I think we’ve deserved it haven’t we?” he suggested. Ced finally got up to where I stood and pulled me into the Great Hall. “Same time, same place. You up for it?”

“No shit I’m up for it! God, you do not know how boring my afternoon was,” I exaggerated.

* * *

Later that evening, when my roommates were all in bed, softly snoring, I laid staring at the ceiling, too excited for the midnight race to get a wink of sleep. I turned on my side, looking out the window to the full moon outsides, bordered by wispy clouds. My heart beat loud and fast in my chest, and it was all I could do to not squeak in excitement. Even prefects like Ced break rules once in a while.


	3. Chapter Three

September 3, 1994

The first time Cedric and I held a midnight race was in our second year. We both got into our houses’ Quidditch team, and I would always brag about how I was able to get in on one year of flying experience when he’d been flying his whole life. As hyper twelve-year-olds, there were often long periods where we would have to go days on end without Quidditch, as dramatic as it sounds. Our simple solution? Sneak out and fly under the cover of night.

The first time we endeavored to hold a midnight race, we planned for weeks. The perfect time to leave the castle, what paths we’d take, weather conditions. Everything was accounted for-- the only hard part would be actually managing to pull it off. It was a clear night, and I remember seeing a yellow full moon hanging low through the tower window. When the analog clock on my bedside counter struck 11:55 PM, I carefully scooted out of bed and tip-toed to the common room and out onto the staircase. I suppose it’s important to mention that I have a...unique relationship with the Fat Lady. It turns out that she has a special affinity for Eurovision, which she calls “the only Muggle tradition I have respect for”. In exchange for her silence, I would update her on various contestants and their lives, which would often call for very strange requests home to my parents, most notably the purchase of Muggle gossip tabloids. I once had to whisper-sing Waterloo for her to let me into the common room on a night where Filch was particularly onto me.

Our first midnight race was magical-- ironic, I know, but that really is the only word to describe it. I met Cedric on the green in front of the castle, and when we finally got into the air we were able to fly as fast as we wanted, as high as we wanted. The cold air burned in my lungs, but in a good way, you know? It was utterly amazing. I looked back on those memories with a smile as I waved a quick goodbye to the Fat Lady and headed outside, stopping occasionally when I heard the far-off meow of Mrs Norris. I was always unusually lucky with these sorts of things. When I stepped outside, everything remained motionless. Looking to my right, I saw a small blip against the wall, moving towards me at an ever-increasing speed.

“Hey,” Cedric exhaled when he reached me. His pale face, drenched in moonlight, was the only part of him that was clear.

We always made sure to wear our darkest clothes on these nights. “Let’s go.” We made our way to the Quidditch pitch, and I bent over the lock of the broom shed. “Alohomora,” I whispered, my breath visible in the cold night air. I rummaged through the small room for mine and Cedric’s brooms. I had a Cleansweep Six, a present from my parents after they found out I had made it onto the team. They were quite happy for me-- I had never been athletic, and always stood awkwardly on the sidelines when they signed me up for football in primary school. I threw Cedric his broom, and once we were both mounted we kicked off of the ground into the dark velvet sky.

Despite its name, Ced and I didn’t really race most of the time. We spent most of the time flying on our own, speeding off to our heart’s content. Every once again, our paths would cross and he’d flash me one of his signature smiles. Tonight was different. “I want to actually race today,” he told me, keeping his voice low. “I’m not actually that tired for not having slept in so long.” He was pretty much shivering with excitement (or maybe it was the cold), bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Alright,” I gave in. I still felt a bit guilty at making him relive the Death Eaters’ march on the night of the World Cup. We walked into the stadium, coming to a stop at the base of the right-hand goalposts. “Three laps?” I lifted my head to look at Ced’s face, and he nodded in agreement. We rose on our brooms until we were level with the tallest post, the ground dropping below us until it was barely visible in the dark. “On the count of three. One, two, three…”

Cedric shot off at such an alarming speed that I almost didn’t follow, but I managed to start off at a slightly slower pace. The air rippled through my shirt, drying out my eyes and causing me to squint ahead of me. I leaned forward on my broom, accelerating as Ced’s back loomed closer and closer. We passed the mark for our first lap, and he let out a little whoop in triumph. I screwed up my face in determination-- I was not going to let him beat me. I leaned even further, coming neck to neck with him, looking to my side with a grin. The wind whistled past my ears-- we were so close I could hear each exhale. The post marking our second lap flew by, frost biting on my nose. At each turn, we tilted precariously to go with the curve of the stadium. It was probably the fastest I had ever flown, and my eyes stung as I tried to keep them open. I kept my eyes straight forward, scared that I’d panic if I looked down. I felt it in my stomach first. As we rounded the curve of our second lap, a lurch tugged right behind my navel. A split second after, my weight started shifting on my broom. Left, left, even more left. I gripped my broom as hard as I could, my palms burning as the skin there blistered. “Ced!” I gasped, nearly parallel to the ground at this point. He turned to look at me, and all of a sudden I felt the broom drop from beneath me. I closed my eyes, ready for my impending doom. Nothing happened for a few seconds, and I opened my eyes to see Cedric hovering on his broom in midair, grabbing my wrist. “Hold on,” he grunted. “I’m going to fly us down, okay?”

I must’ve been in shock because not a peep left my mouth. I dangled there, frozen, only slightly aware that the ground was slowly yet surely inching nearer and nearer. My feet hit the soft grass, and I would’ve fallen face-first onto the floor if it wasn’t for Cedric’s hand around my arm. At this point, the fear that should have pulsed through me minutes ago kicked in, and I essentially twisted my arm from Ced’s grip, crawled a few feet away, and dry heaved. At last, the remnants of my dinner came up, and I dragged myself away, faceplanting in the soft grass of the pitch. Turning my head to the side, I pressed my left cheek against the wet field. Shifting my eyes, I noticed Cedric’s pale face looming over me, a mixture of concern and slight disgust. “Y-you good?” he asked, brushing away the hair sticky with sweat from my forehead. I grunted in response.

“Better now. After the barf.” Slowly, I turned myself onto my back, taking extra care not to move my head too much for fear of triggering a fresh wave of nausea. Ced shifted and leaned back on his arms, staring up at the full moon. “Where’s my broom?” I asked, eyes darting side to side.

“Oh, I got it. Split nearly in half before I cast Reparo.”

Another grunt in response from me.

“Mmm...you know, I don’t think you should consider a professional career in Quidditch,” Ced teased.

“I nearly died just now do not test me Cedric Diggory,” I huffed, the words coming out in a rapid-fire manner. “ _And_ , don’t make me think about what I’m gonna do after college.”

“It’ll come to you.”

I sat up. “That’s easy for you to say! You’ve wanted to be a curse-breaker since, what, first year? I have zero real-world skills,” I grumbled. “At least I’m done with school after next year. Probably would’ve gotten into a shit Muggle university. I just want to travel the world or something.”

“You could be a Magizoologist?” Cedric suggested.

I shrugged. “Care of Magical Creatures is fun.”

“You are scared of spiders though…”

“Let’s not talk about our careers anymore, Ced” I groaned. “Isn’t it so weird that we’re going to be old one day? Like, just imagine it. Thirty-five year old us.”

Cedric laughed, the kind where he threw his head back and his whole body shook. “Thirty-five isn’t old, Pheebs.”

“Kinda is,” I said in a sing-song voice. “Dude, I want a kid one day. I need to learn how to change a diaper.”

“I feel like you’d be a pretty good mother.”

“I’d be an _awesome_ mum. Besides the diaper part.” I turned my head to look at Cedric. “You’d be a pretty good dad too. You’d probably take your kids camping and stuff-- you seem like a camping guy.”

“A camping guy?” Our eyes met, and our mouths were pressed into lines, quivering with our held-back laughter. My lip quirked up and I gave in first, rolling over and laughing into the grass. Besides me, I felt Ced shaking in silent laughter. “Shh,” he let out between gasps. “Don’t be so loud!” he whisper-yelled. I clamped a hand over my mouth, reducing my cackles to subtle, choked-up grunts. After a few more minutes of our laughing fit, we were finally out of breath, panting as we gasped for air.

“You’re my best friend, Phoebe, you know that?”

I smiled. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this far!! This chapter is a bit random but I PROMISE the next few will be better-- but they'll probably be coming a bit later since I am gonna be super busy these next few weeks! Also, shoutout to @carloabay for being my first comment :D it means so much more to me than you know <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a fic, so thank you so much if you've read this far! Sending hugs to you <3 I have not edited this yet, which might be clear-- but I will try and go through what I've written at some point. Have a great rest of your day/night, and once again thank you so much for reading! ^-^
> 
> P.S. the formatting might be a little weird, I'm still trying to figure out how to post on ao3 LOL


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